In the Memory Of
by When-turtles-strike-back
Summary: A series of oneshots dedicated to the dead of Harry Potter 1st one has HBP SPOILERPLZ Read and Reveiw PLZ CHAPTER THREE IS UP!
1. Dumbledore's Dilema

**A/N:** **This chapter contains HBP spoiler**, **don't read unless if you didn't read Book six, or do if, yah know, you want major plot point to be revealed…. Well……… I did warn you!**

Diclaimer: I do not own beanie babies, or payless shoe store, or smuckers, or the national wildlife bird finder club of the trans alantic highway(okay that one I made up, so I do own it, BOOYAH, take that copy right people) I do not own the band Good Charlotte… I do not claim to own Good Charlotte… infact, I don't even like good charlotte (except for that song "I just wanna live" because he sounds like he got kicked in his "special place") I do not own any shares in the state of alabama, or my great grannys mashed potatoe recipe, I don't own uno Ino (even though I do) I do not own the rights to the card game slap jacks, or have the ability to tell if one will "Die in seven 'work' days" and sock puppet aliens do not (even though they do) have a plan to take out my brain bit by bit while I'm sleeping and replace it with a brain of a hybrid pigeon pig, I do not own the term pigeon pig, I can not leap 12 stories in a single bound or chew gum at 5.5nanosecents per a minute, and I can't spell second (oh wait I just remembered how)

am I forgetting something….

oh yes……

I do not own the Harry Potter idea or anything, I do not claim to and am making no money off of this piece of uber crap (unless someone wants to… I except badgers and giniue pigs and mice, infact, any pet rodent will do, and…..umm….oh oh… confederate coins… oh and American Greens, because I am CANADIAN, and I love out "funny" money dearley, but American "clone" money is worth just a fraction more, and more is better because I can buy more stuff… or less stuff depending if I shop at the 99 cent store or Le Chatue, you can buy fish nets there…) ummm oh and I also don't own Fawks the pheonix or the drug Acid (nope no drugs at ALL)

And remember…

Just because I'm paranoid does not mean they are not out to get me!

Oh and this one is dedicated to my very bestest friend Chantal, heres to you girl, you inspire me to be a little bit insaner every day.

The monster in my closet came out in drag!

* * *

**Dumbledores Dilema**

The old wizard paced across the floor in his oval office, he did this quite often. Pacing was Dumbledores thing, it helped him think. What was he to do, the huge dilema was impossible to deal with. The wise man looked over to his most trusted companion, fawks the pheonix.

"Fawks, my friend, please help me"

The pheonix just stared at the aged man with disinterest, he didn't care. Dumbledore rolled his ever twinkiling eyes at the eternal bird. How did thins happen, how could it, it must have been the deatheaters, ordered by Voldemort to taunt him, so he'll, perhaps, let down his defences, but that would never happen. Maybe it was the ministries doing, trying to presuade him to give up his position (ooo… position). Maybe even tell them about the prophecy, or convince Harry to do all that publicity crap for the minister. It would not work, their schemes were useless. Albus Dumbledore would not be swayed by futile attempts, even if they were his favorite pair.

"Oh I'm so sad, look at them Fawks, LOOK AT THEM!"

The deranged headmaster shoved a pair of big, whooly socks in the bueatiful birds face. The socks, were full of holes (they were holy socks) and a rather disgusting shade of puce. Dumbledore started to cry, while petting at his destroyed socks.

"My lovely socks, I got them many years ago for christmas, they were a pressie from mummy. They were the last thing she gave me, before she… she… she… retired to hawaii"

The bird just stared at the crazy old man like he was… well… crazy, but Dumbledore either didn't see or chose to ignore the birds harsh gaze. He continued to cry over his newly puce socks.

"They were such a lovely shade of purple before, went so well with my Merlin Robes"

Dumbledore gazed fondly off into space, being all nostalgic and shit.

"I wonder, will I ever get them back to their original goodness"

The wizard in terrible need of a shave, caressed the sock lovingly, with his weather worn(and super uber bearded) face, the tears visibly showing.

"Well if they're ruined, I guess I should give them an appropriate burial, I think I have an old shoe box around here somewhere"

Dumbledore dropped the socks on his offic floor and ran to his many shelved shelf, and got himself an payless shoestort shoebox. He placed the puce green socks into the box, gently and conjured up a few roses to put over them, he then used spell-o-tape to secure the lid shut. Dumbledore stuffed the shoebox coffin under his armpit (stinky) and gestured to fawks.

"Come Fawks… to the SANDBOX"

The bird stared after his senile friend, shaking his fiery feather head.

"Why did I ever convince that man to do acid with me"

Then Fawks, the pheonix, proceeded to burst into a brilliant blaze of fiery flames.

"WHHHEEEEEE!"

* * *

This my friends is the first chapter of the " In The Memory Of" series, I will be doing one chapter dedicated to every person that has died or was mentioned to be dead (and possibly the ghosts) in the Harry Potter Series, I hope you enjoy them, **plz Review**, pretty please, reveiws make me happy… unless they're bad reveiws, those make me slip into a blinding rage and hunt down the perpetrators, unless it is constructive don't CRITISIZE me!

Thank you

**WTSB**


	2. Siriusly Serious

A/N: This was originally supposed to be chapter two, because I was going by this order thingy, but then no one was reading the story so I didn't bother to type it up right away. Then I couldn't find it, but I found it so yay.

Disclaimer: I hold ownership of a lot of things, but Harry Potter is not one of them.

In The Memory Of 

Chapter Three

Siriusly Serious

'_Wow'_, thought Sirius Black while looking in the bathroom mirror, _'Am I ever orange'_?

How the young wizard got to be this way he didn't rightly know, but he was defiantly orange. His entire body was orange, from feet to face; his once pale skin was now a vibrant tangerine orange. He didn't really know what to do about his sudden orangeness.

'I really don't know what to do about this sudden orangeness' 

What did I tell you, Sirius Black knew not what to do?

'_My whole self is bright orange, it's such a mystery'_, He squinted his eyes at the orange reflection of him, _'Oooo I should find out the mystery… this will be fun, I could find clues, network data, and collect stool samples… okay maybe not stool samples, but it's a possibility'_

If you are lost to the inside the head conversations between Sirius Black and himself, them let me go back to the night before. Sirius was most definitely sure that whatever had happened to his skin had started the night before. The beginning is always a good place to start, and then maybe you'll understand.

It all started (so we speculate) at Ten pm the night before in the Gryffindor common room. He had just stepped through the portrait whole, returning from a date with a fifth year Hufflepuff girl. Sirius liked dating Hufflepuff girls, because as he said, it was a house full of desperate girls willing to believe anything. Infact, I am most certain that that was what he had been thinking about as he stepped through the portrait hole.

'_Damn that girl was hot, Emma… something… oh well, I love Hufflepuff girls, they're so easy, well maybe not easy (not in a slutty way), but they're so trusting, they'll believe anything. Gullible… yeah that's what they are they're gullible. Wow, I'm really being insensitive, I mean she was just a fifth yea'_,He bent down noticing a loose shoe lace, tying it while getting back on his track of training thoughts, _'Maybe I should stop being such a… what's that word that Lily uses all the time… a player or something. That's it from this point on Sirius Black will stop being the breaker of fifth year Hufflepuff hearts… I'll move on to sixth year hearts… yeah that sounds right.'_

When Sirius rose from his shoe, and got his first real look at the common room, the sight he saw would be emblazed in his minds eye for all eternity.

"HOLY FUCKING MERLIN… I'M GOING TO SULLIED FOR LIFE, MY EYES, I NEED TO BURN MY EYES, WHERE IS THAT SPARE BOTTLE OF HOLY WATER… WHERE IS IT"

"Oh Sirius, your back", his messy black haired friend greeted him from a rather promiscuous position with a certain red headed vixen.

Sirius had just walked in on his best friend and his "not so innocent anymore" girlfriend Lily Evens having a late night snogfest.

'_Right there, in the middle of the common room, for al to see'_, thought Sirius angrily, ignoring the fact that before he had interrupted them they had been alone.

It was at that moment that Sirius Black developed a nervous eye twitch.

" Potter, Evens, please remember that there are other people on this planet that don't wish to see you try to eat each others faces", Sirius stated, while his eye twitched vigorously.

James Potter looked at his best friend, a goofy lopsided smile on his face, "Well if you don't want to watch it then why don't you just leave", and with that the happy couple went back to sucking face (although it probably wasn't like porn show quality or anything, Sirius just thought it was).

Sirius made an angry rude gesture and started to head up to the boys dormitory. It wasn't that Sirius wasn't glad that James finally got a girlfriend he actually liked it was _her. _Lily Evens, the school's resident teachers pet. You couldn't get away with anything around her. She was a horrid person in Sirius's mind. Okay so he agreed that she had a certain hotness factor (she was a redhead after all), but she was utterly annoying. In the back of his mind he knew that the main reason he was mad at Lily had to do with her being an obsessive-compulsive do-gooder. She gave Sirius two weeks of detention for absolutely nothing (okay so he dumped magic resistant ink in her hair). James was mad at him after that one, but it wasn't Sirius's fault that Jim's new girlfriend had no sense of humor, besides he had only done it to get back at the red haired temptress for enticing James to be late for this totally awesome prank they had planned to pull.

James had been a half hour late; because of a little snogging party he and Evens had that night. The timing was all off, and Filch caught them, gave them a ton of detentions, and to make matters worse he confiscated the Marauders map. It was all Lily Evans's fault; if she and James hadn't been snogging they would have gotten away with it. She was like Yoko Ono or something. James was letting his little girlfriend get in the way of serious business, and she was taking up way to much of his time. James never just hung out with the group anymore, and when he did it was always with Lily there. They couldn't talk about any "fun" stuff, or Lily would glare disapprovingly at them, and be all angry with James. She was totally breaking up the band, or maybe it was just him that felt this way.

Sirius got to his dormitory, and snuggled into his many warm blankets. His bitter thoughts of his friend's relationship with the enemy faded as sleep took its hold on him.

That night the young wizard Sirius Black had a blissful sleep. A sleep full of pleasant dreams, chock-full of fifth year Hufflepuff girls, pink sock puppets, and thousands and thousands of bunny rabbit squeak toys.

And bluegrass music

Sirius woke happy, and well rested. He was looking foreword to the day stretching ahead of him. He had completely forgotten about his issues with James and Lily the couple. He was craving toast and strawberry jam, and was a aggressively bright shade of tangerine orange.

I heart Sirius Black he's such a fun character to write. I was deeply saddened by his departure from the series, but it doesn't matter because I knew that I always had fanfiction.


	3. Moaning Myrtle pretty much sums it up

Quote of the chapter: I'm not a retard I just wear glasses (Siblings)

In The Memory Of…

Moping and Moaning

With Myrtle

While living Myrtle had spent a lot of time in the second floor girls bathroom, which was why she decided to haunt it post mortem. She wasn't there doing what most girls do in the bathroom, fixing their hair, or doing touch ups on their makeup. Myrtle usually was hiding, although after all those years it wasn't a very good hiding spot. Her various tormenters usually found her rather quickly, if they didn't it was just because they hadn't bothered to look.

See Myrtle was what you could call the school pariah. She didn't have very many "friends". The people that she could call her friends were mostly just people that wanted to her to do their homework for them. It wasn't that she was a genius or anything, but people assumed that she was good at homework because she wore glasses. It was a misconception that she hadn't corrected as she liked the company, and was very willing to get a bad grade on other peoples assignments to get it.

She was neither extremely ugly nor tremendously good-looking, she just was. She was a very plain girl with a rather unflattering hairstyle and unflattering glasses. She was muggleborn and had a somewhat agitating voice. She wasn't extraordinarily knowledgeable, nor was she a very eloquent conversationalist. Myrtle often developed a noticeable stutter and a slight lisp when she was surprised, confused, or nervous… which was quite often really.

Her life was neither meaningful nor was it insignificant. She never really hoped to accomplish much, although she was the first murder of one Tom Riddle Jr (when he was still calling himself that).

She didn't accomplish much, and the only reason people still remember her is because she is the infamous Moaning Myrtle, the ghost of the girls toilet. It really wasn't the legacy that she ( or her family) had foreseen, but really, what else could she have been known for. If you really think about it, and let it float inside your head, it's quite obvious really. It's fitting that she go down in history as the girl that died coming out of a bathroom stall, think of Elvis while you grasp at this thought. He died on the toilet of a heart attack, Myrtles death was so much more intresting then that, and she hadn't even had a successful music career. Plus, being killed by Slytherin's monster is a very good conversational piece… don't you think.

And that is the memorial to the one the only MOANING MYRTLE.

I like the name Myrtle… there are not enough people named Myrtle these days. It was my gramma's name, but she has passed so it is just a mere memory.


End file.
